


Storybook Romance

by boychik



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Beauty - Freeform, Dissociative Identity Disorder, F/M, Murder, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, Romance, Super High-School Level Heir, Super High-School Level Literary Girl, Super High-School Level Murderer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-02-10
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:15:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boychik/pseuds/boychik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Fukawa Touko and Genocider Syo have very different ideas of the perfect love affair.</p><p>"Rigor mortis ruins everything."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storybook Romance

**Author's Note:**

> I'm actually not that far in Dangan Ronpa so I haven't read much past Chihiro's death. This is all speculation. No spoilers please. ;u;
> 
> Also Flower Boy Next Door reference yeah uh I just wanted to use something based on the phrase, "Your eyes are so dark and deep" in there somewhere @v@

She had already found the guy. Now all Fukawa Touko wanted was her perfect romance.

She had it all mapped out, in the same way she’d draw out the outlines for her plots. Black ink, pure and incontrovertible, soaked into the whorls of her brain. 

Act 1: Meet cute. Perhaps the girl is running, hastily trying to get to class or manage a bursting bag of groceries before they can topple from her delicate arms and spill spoiled by the curbside, or in the long dark corridors of an academy in lockdown, it doesn’t matter, and she bumps into the boy. He is blond and wears silver glasses. At first he is almost unrealistically rude to her, but what the girl doesn’t know is that the pressure of being the heir to Japan’s prestigious and wealthy Togami family has caused such a rift in his heart. He cannot bring himself to behave like a socially adjusted individual. What specifically causes such a great stress so as to form this brusque facade is yet unknown. 

Act 2: The two try to stay apart, but it’s impossible. Some force of nature (the author’s pen, of course, Creator of their 2D world, only to them it is 3D and 4D and 5D too, time and space and universal truth) brings them together, like magnets. The first kiss is winsome and chaste. He removes her glasses and finds that her eyes are deep and dark. She is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. They daintily become lovers, intertwining limbs and sucking like passionate snails.

Act 3 would normally hold a hint of conflict, some minor misunderstanding that would blow up into a spiteful tryst or a climactic violent action, redeemed only by a sobbing heroine or a genuflecting boyfriend. (Her pen is writing so fast.) But this is Fukawa Touko’s perfect romance. Nothing should get in the way between her story and reality. They should fuse, become so you couldn’t tell one from the other, because they are the same.

But Syo was getting in the way. Syo just _had_ to ruin everything, Syo who was so selfish and cruel as to crush all her dreams of love. Even if Touko was ugly and no one liked her and she didn’t even fit smooth and neat into her own pale skin, she had the right to hold on to her dreams.

Fukawa’s tears are like water to Syo. Syo makes her crumple up her drafts and throw them to the ground.

 _What do you think you’re doing,_ Syo hisses. _You’re not useful at all! You’re the most useless girl in the whole world!_

 _Writing is stupid and worthless_ , says Syo. _You’re not helping anybody. And why should you? Human life is worthless. You’re worthless. We should be off killing now, not making some stupid scribbles that no one will ever read or care about._

Drink up, Syo. The lachrymations of Fukawa could fill the seven seas.

 _Come on, Fukawa,_ Syo says in an attempt to make amends. _There’s really no difference between you and me—you know there’s no meaning behind it all, and ultimately what do we both love?_

No, Touko sobs. I hate you. Go away.

_That’s right, Touko—it’s beauty. What could be more beautiful than to see that beautiful man, the one you love, strung up on a cross turned inside out and upside down? So rich and red, the color of the roses he’d bring you! Like the color of passion! And the silver blades, so ornate and shining like a storybook moon! Just try and see it, Touko—it’s so beautiful, so picturesque...!_

I can’t, I can’t, Fukawa sobs, the pen strangling in her white-knuckled fist.

 _That sort of attitude is what makes you worthless,_ Syo sniffs. _Don’t say you can’t when you obviously can._

I don’t know what to do anymore! I hate you, Syo!

_Don’t be like that, Fukawa. I could rip him to bits in a second._

Don’t do that! she screams. DON’T YOU DO THAT, SYO!

 _You realize they can hear you,_ Syo says. _But not me. Only you. Maybe I should take over for now._

Fukawa Touko pricks her finger and passes out with a cartoonish thud, and Genocider Syo gets right to work. Fukawa wasted so much time. The boy is right in front of her, what was she wasting her time on all this pen and paper crap for? It takes hours and hours to craft and perfect the scissors. Because they have to be perfect. Otherwise how could they obtain their storybook romance? It simply would not do to idle before Act 1 had even properly begun. The audience would get bored if there was no drama, no passion. So that’s why Genocider Syo gets to work.

\---

After she’s crafted the scissors and gently arraigned those lovely arms across the bars of the crucifix and stabbed Togami Byakuya to death, Genocider Syo experiences her very own storybook romance.

He’s just as beautiful as she thought he would be. Without the rise and fall of his slim and boyish chest, Togami is completely still. His expression of pain and fear, delightful as it was to Syo, simply would not satisfy the requirement of the storybook romance. As such, she has arranged his features in a more becoming manner. A trace of a smile is much more fitting: The ideal leading man is handsome and strong, yet also beautiful and gentle. He is filthy rich, ideally a prince, but in his heart he is kind. The lashes on Togami Byakuya’s closed eyes make a webwork of straight lace on his cheeks. The blood is the passion, and the silver the moon. The light cast is as over Endymion. 

That makes Syo Diana. Yes. That’s fitting, isn’t it, to be a goddess so powerful yet always chasing after a love she could not have? Yes. It is. It’s poignant. Love is poignant. 

The difference between Syo and Diana is that Syo gets what she wants.

Despite her best efforts, Byakuya’s mouth is hanging open, and she can see every one of his pearly whites. No cavities, as expected from the Heir.

Her tongue is long and red and she pushes it inside his mouth. As expected, it’s a beautiful taste, like eating fresh flowers before the selfish worms can get to them and drag the petals under the surface of the earth to decompose and create little worm homes.

The scene is, without question, one hundred percent beautiful. Syo could stay there forever and stare at his still and perfect beauty and ponder the eternal nature of her love, but knows from experience that beauty is ephemeral. The perfect storybook romance only lasts until the body has cooled and hardened. Rigor mortis ruins everything. 

As such, there’s no time to waste. Fukawa Touko is weak, but she is still the primary owner of this body. Syo could sneeze, and _she_ could take over any second now. So there’s no time to waste. She allows herself one last sigh, one last whisper— _Good night, my sweet, beautiful, lovely prince_ —before she hurries back to the dorms, locks herself up tight so nothing bad will happen to Fukawa when she begins to wail.


End file.
